Letters from Winterhold
by atomicrusade
Summary: A collection of letters between the eager and wisecracking Onmund of the College of Winterhold and his stubborn older sister in Solitude, detailing how their lives changed during the return of the dragons.


2 Morning Star, 4E 201

Dearest Olfa,

I hope this letter finds you happy and healthy. I wonder if you will even open it? Or will you cast it into the hearth in anger? Regardless, I must spill my thoughts somewhere, even if they'll never be read.

Winterhold is beautiful. It is constantly snowing. The College is always covered in a blanket of downy fluff-I often imagine jumping around in it, but I refrain for fear of judgment.

My peers are paranoid to say the least, of each other and me. I am disappointed. I thought being around other mages would make me feel more at home, but they are all so secretive!

I did, however, manage to make one of the other students smile. Brelyna Maryon is her name. She hails from Morrowind and is constantly shivering. We were alone in the library one night, studying, and I made a joke about her teeth chattering, and her mouth quirked just the tiniest bit! It felt like all those times I'd try to make you laugh when father was lecturing us about Tamriellic history.

Despite the coldness of my peers and the weather, I am overjoyed. I learn much each day, and often discuss many things with Tolfdir, the Alteration expert. He says I'll make a great mage yet.

How are you? Is Daigr still bothering you? How did our parents react when they found out I'd left?

I love you. Please write with haste, if you decide to write at all.

Your little skeever,

Onmund

* * *

><p>7 Morning Star, 4E 201<p>

Silliest Onmund,

I did not burn your letter. I thought about tearing it up. I really did.

You're lucky that the courier found me in the plaza before he made his way to the house-Father really would've torn it up. In fact, he'd have torn it up, fed it to the dog, then put the excrement into the fire. So address your response to Corpulus at the Skeever. I'll make sure he knows to keep it a secret. I'll even work for free for a month if it'll keep his stupid mouth shut.

It has been a fortnight since I've seen you last, and it feels as though you've ripped a hole in my heart. How I've worried about you! I should have made you stay that night.

But I am glad you are safe and doing well. It serves you right that you are having trouble earning the affections of your fellow apprentices. You left so many loved ones behind; the Eight must be punishing you.

Oh Onmund, I'm sorry if my anger is seeping into my words, but I am still so angry with you! I am trying to forgive you for what you said to Father, but I'm finding it difficult. Maybe if you came home, you and Father could work this out?

And to answer your questions, yes, Daigr is still bothering me. He struts about the bar and sings incessantly of my charms. Corpulus kicks him out every other day.

Mother cried when she found your note. Father said nothing. He just left the house, grumbling about picking up extra shifts at Dour Castle. He has not mentioned you since then. Mother will stand and stare off into space sometimes, and she's mentioned you once or twice, but only to me.

You know, Vivienne pulled me aside at the bar a few days after you ran away. She demanded to know what happened to you. I told her you'd run off to join the Stormcloaks, and she dragged me into an empty room and wouldn't budge from the door until I revealed the truth. I'm sorry I told her, but she wouldn't take no for an answer. I think she loves you, brother. She asked me if you'd respond to letters, but I told her you wanted to be left alone.

Ataf came by last week, wondering where you'd gone. Father forbade me from telling anyone the truth, so I fed Ataf the same story I told Vivienne. I think he knew I was lying, because he said he didn't figure you for a racist warmonger. It felt awful to lie to our best friends, Onmund.

We celebrated the new year without you. It just wasn't the same.

Love always,

Olfa

* * *

><p>11 Morning Star, 4E 201<p>

Dearest Olfa,

I was overjoyed to receive your letter this morning! I nearly knocked over the courier!

I am sorry for the grief I have caused you and Mother, but I cannot forgive Father. So quickly you forget who started the arguments all these years! Father looks only straight ahead instead of opening his eyes to the whole picture.

It hurts to hear about the friends I left behind, but it had to be done. I hope one day you'll understand. Thank you for asking Vivienne not to write. I would not know what to say to her, except that I'm sorry and that I miss singing silly songs with her in the Winking Skeever.

You really think she loves me? I must admit, I had my suspicions, but I didn't want to believe. I hope she'll forget about me in the months to come and focus on men more worthy of her affections.

I am very busy these days, and I'll have to spread out writing back over a couple of days. I hope you'll understand the delay.

A great deal has happened since my last letter! I've finally made a friend! His name is J'zargo, and he's terribly clever. He told me one day that he likes my jokes, and asked me if I'd try out an amulet he'd crafted. Unfortunately, the amulet exploded as soon as it touched my skin. I flew across the room and hit a wall! Luckily, I'd just learned a great healing spell the week before, and I patched myself up just fine (magical wounds are especially easy to heal). J'zargo thought it was hilarious and admirable that the first thing out of my mouth was a crack about dangerous artifacts. We've been inseparable ever since.

We're trying to get Brelyna (do you remember my mention of Brelyna?) to study with us, but she seems hesitant. She says she's here to learn, not to make friends. I think we're warming her up, though. We have to be, what with my practical jokes and J'zargo's flirting! Who could resist such an onslaught?

I've found great counsel in Tolfdir as well, but I could hardly count him as a friend. A mentor maybe? I have been learning warding and flesh spells from him. He's very wise. I sometimes tell him about you, and about home.

J'zargo and I visit the local inn, the Frozen Hearth, once or twice a week. At first, they didn't like us around, but then we started selling poisons for blades and arrows and they began to warm up. I've been earning a good bit of coin for it!

Tolfdir keeps hinting at a lesson he's eager to teach next month-he says it's a field expedition of some sort. The Arch-Mage hates it when apprentices go into the field, so according to Tolfdir, it's a quite a surprise the lesson was even approved. J'zargo thinks we're going to visit Ysgramor's tomb, because it's only a short distance away. Wouldn't that be exciting?

You need to tell Daigr to stick that flute where the moons don't reach. I have half a mind to march back into Solitude one day and set him afire. That'll teach him to mess with you.

And yes, I know you can handle him yourself, but I'd love to see his hair on fire. I know you feel the same.

I eagerly await your reply.

Love,

Onmund

* * *

><p>18 Morning Star, 4E 201<p>

Silliest Onmund,

Oh, if only you'd march back into Solitude! I'd give you a beating you'd never forget!

And you're right, I certainly can handle myself. Daigr can bother me all he wants, I won't give in to his affections.

Father seems to like him, however. He keeps talking about how wonderful Daigr is with a sword, and about how he's one of the best the Haafingar Guard has ever seen. You'd think he was the Dragonborn, the way Father goes on about him!

Speaking of which, have you heard the rumors? About dragons in the south, and the calling of the Dragonborn to High Hrothgar? Corpulus says it's hogwash, but I'm not so sure. I've been having peculiar dreams of late, about fire and flight...Mother says she's been having similar visions.

I'll have you know that I've finally accepted that you're not going to come back anytime soon. My heart is still a little broken, but it's healing now. You seem so happy in your letters-how could I stay mad?

Tell me about what a typical day is like at the College. Do you have classes all day? What are the other professors like? What about the other students?

I don't like that J'zargo nearly killed you, but from your scant description, he reminds me a bit of Ataf. Always scheming and flirting.

I wouldn't mind if Ataf showered me with affections, now that I think of it. Do you think, if I showed interest, he would?

This reminds me-you have mentioned Brelyna in both of your letters now. Is there something you aren't telling me, little brother? Perhaps nursing a small crush?

Mother is eager for me to get married. She says at twenty-three, I am getting too old. Can you believe her? I am not too old, I am in my prime! I have half a mind to pack up like you did to go travel the world!

But the other half of my mind warns of dragons and civil war, so I stay safely nestled away in this corner of the world. An important corner, but a corner, nonetheless.

Will you ever visit?

Love always,

Olfa

* * *

><p>23 Morning Star, 4E 201<p>

Dearest Olfa,

I would be careful about Daigr winning Father's favor. If Father gets it in his head that he wants Daigr as a son-in-law, there will be little that could stop him.

As for the rumors of dragons, I don't think they're rumors at all. Dawnstar was attacked by a dragon not too long ago, and a travelling bard that came through town last week claimed he actually saw the Dragonborn take it down. J'zargo and I demanded to know what he looked like, but the bard said he was unable to tell. Said he was in full armor, helmet and all. J'zargo reckons the man was lying, but I'm not so sure. But you know how I love daring adventure-this is just my sort of thing, dragons and Dovakhiins.

I am glad you are finally starting to forgive me. To be honest, I thought it might take a bit longer. You are known for your grudges, sister.

As I write this letter to you, I am sitting on the first floor of the Hall of Attainment, which is the boarding area of the college. J'zargo's room is next to mine, and if I crane my neck, I can see Brelyna across the hall. It is a little after midnight, so J'zargo is working on some concoction in his room that smells acrid, and Brelyna is asleep. On the second floor, I can hear Enthir playing his lute, and Nirya is yelling at him to stop.

Enthir is a shady fellow. He's a wood elf, and deals in unsavory enterprises. J'zargo says he's part of the Thieves Guild and, quite frankly, this would not surprise me. He's got these shifty, cat-like eyes.

Nirya is a beautiful high elf, but she's vain and deceitful. She insulted Brelyna just this morning, actually. But J'zargo jumped in right away to defend his 'beautiful lady-friend,' as he said. Brelyna didn't like that much.

And no, Olfa, I take no romantic interest in either woman. Nirya is unkind and Brelyna reminds me too much of you. Honestly, you hate that Mother wants you to go and marry the first man that moons over you, but then you go and ask about my affections toward a woman I barely know! You're more like Mother than you think.

But I digress. A normal day at the college consists of classes beginning an hour after dawn and continuing into midday. We then are left to our own devices in the afternoon-we can find a professor to train with, study by ourselves, or practice with each other. Usually J'zargo and I muck about in the Hall of the Elements, which is this huge chamber in the main part of the university. If we get bored, we usually split off. J'zargo goes to the library to flirt with Brelyna, and I train with Tolfdir. For the past few days, though, I've been going to see Colette Marence. She's the Professor of Restoration, and she's a bit paranoid and difficult to work with, but I find I'm able to calm her down enough so that she'll teach me.

I really enjoy healing, and Colette says I'm quite good at it. I'm eager to try the spells on someone who's actually hurt, but unless I go looking for trouble, that isn't an option for me. Besides, the Archmage doesn't like apprentices exploring without an instructor, and I doubt any professor will go with me to find some injured person in the woods. Maybe I really should join the Stormcloacks?

I only jest, sister. I can almost see the shock on your face. I promise I won't run off again.

The wind is howling outside my window. It has been storming for three day straight. Nobody has been able to even walk the bridge to town; it's slick with ice and piled high with snow. Sometimes, if I look hard enough, I can see the lights from the town through the swirling snow, like bright orange stars in a gray-black fog.

Do you ever feel the prickling on the back of your neck and an excitement in your heart for no reason at all? Like something big is about to happen? I feel that all the time now. I haven't told anyone here. They'd probably think I was crazy, or they'd make me take scrying with the Archmage. I shudder to think of it. Scrying is horrendously difficult, you see, and the Archmage is the only person in Winterhold (and possibly this part of Skyrim) that can do it. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I'm afraid of the man. He seems so wizened and austere.

Oh, one last thing: I think you should reveal your feelings to Ataf. I feel he'd reciprocate them tenfold.

Your little skeever,

Onmund

* * *

><p>30 Morning Star, 4E 201<p>

Silliest Onmund,

I am glad the blizzard didn't delay your letter. It fills me with joy on the days that Corpulus winks at me, for it means that your response has finally come to the inn.

Your descriptions of the mage's college are like pages out of a storybook, little brother. No wonder you feel that excitement in your heart! You're finally living your adventure! I am jealous. I wish I would have thought to run away first.

I do have somber news, though. Roggvir was executed yesterday. It was awful; Father made Mother and I attend with him. It had rained all night, so the morning was bleak and dark and the only sound as Roggvir was killed was dripping water. Vivienne and I sat in the back room of the Skeever in silence afterwards. She looked so hollow, Onmund.

It's times like these I wish you were here. You are always able to cheer me up. Getting your letter this morning helped, of course, but I wish I could see your face.

There is to be a wedding tomorrow! Vittoria Vici, the Emperor's cousin, is marrying Asgeir Snow-Shod! It's supposed to be an enormous party. I know how much you loved attending the weddings outside Castle Dour. I wanted to attend, but Corpulus says I have to work the inn with Sorex just in case any travelers stop by. Mother is going, though, and Father is on duty during the event, and they promised they'd tell me all about it.

Speaking of marriage, Daigr came into the inn a few days ago wearing an amulet of Mara. Such a clunky and awkward way of telling someone you're single, don't you agree? Anyway, he made a great fuss about it, making sure I saw it and all that. I may learn a fire spell of my own and set him ablaze myself.

I'm too nervous to tell Ataf of my feelings. I fear rejection, brother. Ataf is a mystery, and sometimes I wish him to remain that way. Perhaps that is what I find so intoxicating about him?

Stay warm out there, Onmund.

Love always,

Olfa


End file.
